


One Night

by MaggieMaybe160



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Crying Castiel (Supernatural), Drunk Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, It's All John Winchester's Fault, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Lube, M/M, Men Crying, Miscommunication, One Night Stands, Romantic Fluff, Smut, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 22:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21309814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160
Summary: An accidental one night stand between Castiel and Dean leads to whispered confessions and miscommunications.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 218
Collections: Fic Facer$ 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so happy to have written and been part of FicFacers October 2019! This is for StringTheory! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> And another huge thanks to my two alpha/beta team. I love you guys! [nickelkeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep) and [opal_galaxies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opal_galaxies)

Dean glances over his shoulder when he hears a small tap on his door behind him. Standing in the doorway is Cas. Dean doesn’t know if his heart will ever not jump with excitement when Cas enters a room. He can’t fathom the day his stomach doesn’t flip and he has to swallow and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blushing at the thoughts that run through his head when he looks into those blue eyes. 

“Heya, Cas,” he says casually. 

“Hello, Dean.” The deep rumble of his voice rattles through Dean’s bones. 

“Care to join me?” Dean asks, gesturing to the movie on his small tv screen. Cas steps into the room and closes the door behind him as he walks over and stands behind the bed. Dean raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “Come here.” He pats the empty space next to himself. 

Cas hesitates before taking the space, laying down beside Dean. Their shoulders touch, sending electricity through Dean. They both sit still, lying on their stomachs facing the tv as they try not to look at each other. 

“So this chick is in love with that guy and the guy is kind of a playboy, right?” Dean says, glancing over at Cas against his better judgment. Cas nods, his brow furrowed and making his eyes squinty. “But the guy is crazy about her. He thinks that she would never go out with him so he drowns himself in other women and booze.” 

“Why don’t they just talk?” Cas asks. 

“It makes great tv if they don’t. Gotta pull out the drama. Get to the point where the audience is aching to have them together before they even get to kiss,” Dean explains. 

“I think I understand,” Cas says softly, his eyes dropping from Dean before looking back up at the tv. They both fall silent as they let the show play, the overacted drama continuing its story. 

Dean isn’t sure who moved first. Sometime between the time Cas laid down and halfway through the second episode, Dean’s hand is in Cas’. Their fingers are twined together between them on the bed. Dean nudges Cas’ foot with his and looks over at him. Cas kicks him back before turning to face him. 

“Hey,” Dean breathes because he can’t think of anything else to say. There really is nothing left to say when their faces are inches apart. All it would take is a small movement and Dean could kiss Cas’ perfectly pink lips. Dean swallows hard. “Cas.” 

Dean leans in slowly, leaving enough time for Cas to pull away but he doesn’t. He leans in too. The first kiss is gentle, their lips only just meeting, tentatively asking for more. The resounding answer is yes more. So much more. Cas’ lips cushion Dean’s as they crash together. 

Their fingers untangle as they both turn on their sides, still kissing feverishly as they press against each other. Dean’s hand starts at Cas’ back, keeping them pressed together tightly before traveling lower. 

“Dean,” Cas gasps as Dean pulls Cas’ hips to his, both of them already hard. Dean’s mouth moves down Cas’ jaw and dips to his throat. Cas tears at Dean’s shirt, pulling away the layers until Dean sits up to pull off the final t-shirt. 

Cas allows Dean to peel the clothing from him, shrugging out of his coat and smiling as Dean pulls the tie loose with expert fingers and flings it to the floor. He can’t watch anymore as Dean resumes his kisses while he unbuttons Cas’ shirt. 

Skin to skin feels different in all the right ways. Dean catches his breath when their bare chests touch. He can feel Cas’ heart racing a million miles a second against his. He can also feel Cas’ hands on his ass, one hand per cheek, and his knees turn to jelly as he feels him spread them gently. 

“Do you want this?” Cas asks into Dean’s mouth. Dean pulls back enough to search Cas’ deep blue eyes. He wants this. He’s wanted this every day for years. “Do you want me?” Cas reiterates and Dean realizes he didn’t answer out loud. 

“Yes,” he breathes. “I want you.” 

Dean’s skin feels like it’s on fire. Each kiss that Cas plants as he travels downward bursts into fireworks beneath the surface. Cas’ lips run over Dean’s hip bone as he works at the button and zipper of Dean’s now extremely tight jeans. 

Dean runs his hands through Cas’ thick hair. He had always imagined it would be soft, but daydreams can’t compare. 

A small whimper escapes from his lips as Cas runs his hand over Dean’s tented boxers before pulling them down with the jeans. Dean steps out of them and backs up into the wall. Cas nudges the clothes out of his way and kneels in front of a very naked Dean. 

Dean looks down into his best friend’s eyes as Cas opens his mouth and practically swallows Dean whole. One of Dean’s hands in his hair, the other in one of his hands, Cas bobs his head, sliding his tongue from base to tip before wrapping Dean’s erection with his lips. 

Their eyes remain locked until Cas opens his mouth to swirl his tongue around Dean’s tip. Dean closes his eyes and throws his head back as he gulps down a moan, his hand tightening briefly in Cas’ hair. Encouraged, Cas closes his lips again and sucks hard, his tongue playing with the tender edge of the tip. 

“Keep going like that and I’m going to come in your mouth,” Dean warns, his breath ragged. He looks down and sees Cas smile before going in again, his lips going quickly from the tip to the base. “Shit,” Dean gasps. 

Cas opens his mouth wide and moves slowly backward keeping his tongue on the underside of Dean’s throbbing dick. 

“Come in me,” Cas begs before sucking just the tip and taking one of his hands to run up Dean’s thigh until he’s holding a handful of his ass. 

“Cas,” Dean groans, feeling himself spill over. His eyes shut tight as he releases into Cas’ mouth. His hand is tight in the thick hair and he can’t let go. 

When Dean finishes, leaning against the wall for support, his hand relaxing, Cas swallows. Cas stands and unbuckles his own pants, letting them drop to the floor to reveal his own erection. His hands find Dean’s as he steps backward, pulling Dean to the bed. Dean doesn’t put up any fight, falling onto his bed and looking up at Cas with pleading eyes. 

Cas crawls on top of Dean, pressing against him so their entire bodies are touching as he kisses Dean’s neck. Dean groans, still sensitive, and reaches into his bedside table drawer for some lube. Cas continues to kiss and nip at his neck as Dean reaches between his own legs and rubs lube against himself. 

He takes Cas’ hand and leads it to his own hole. Dean wants this. He wants Cas more than he’s wanted anything in his entire life. He whimpers and bites his lip as a finger slips into him. He can feel Cas, long and hard against his thigh. 

Dean can feel himself stretching as Cas’ finger slides farther into him and slowly back out. Cas’ teeth scrape against his raised nipple before biting gently. Dean moans, sheets crumpling in his fists. His eyes shut tight as Cas adds a second finger, gently stretching him wider. 

“Take me,” Dean pleads, weak for his angel. He rubs lube onto Cas’ thick dick as Cas lubes his ass one more time for good measure. 

Cas pressing his hot tip against Dean is already enough to make Dean’s heart race faster and his insides twist in ecstasy. When he presses in slowly, Dean groans under Cas’ matching moan. Their sweaty foreheads press together as their eyes lock. Too close, Dean can’t make anything out but the deep blue. 

Their ragged breaths between are all that’s between them as Cas fills Dean, pressing all the way in. His hips against Dean’s, they pause. 

“Slowly,” Dean says, his hands guiding Cas’ hips. At the slow pace Dean sets, Cas falls into a gentle rocking rhythm. Cas finds Dean’s lips, kissing him deeply as he moves inside of him.   
  
Dean’s hands travel up Cas’ back as he wraps his legs around Cas’ hips. He grabs a fistful of his hair and sucks Cas’ tongue into his mouth. 

Their rhythm quickens, Cas thrusting harder into Dean which elicits whimpers and grunts that are music to Cas’ ears. 

“Cas,” Dean moans into his mouth, hugging him closer. 

“Dean,” Cas answers, panting. 

Cas thrusts all the way into Dean and feels his release. His eyes shut, shoulders tense as he quivers. Dean rolls his hips against Cas, pulling more from him. He feels full. Full of Cas. Full of come. Full of happiness. 

Dean grins up at Cas and runs a hand down the side of his face which Cas nuzzles into before pressing a kiss into his palm. They stay like that, staring into each other’s eyes with intense joy radiating between them. 

Cas pulls out and falls to Dean’s side, both of them limp with exhaustion and quiet with their own thoughts as their hands tangle together once again. The room smells of sex and sweat. Dean can feel come leaking from him but doesn’t bother moving to clean himself up. He’s frozen with the giddy realization that he just crossed that line with Cas, his best friend.  


“Dean?” Cas whispers, turning his head on their shared pillow. Dean turns to face him. He traces Cas’ lips with his fingertip before pressing a gentle kiss there. “I’m in love with you,” Cas says softly. 

“I-” The joy in Dean’s heart begins to crack. He loves Cas, but all he can hear is his father telling him that he wasn’t meant to be loved. He is a soldier. Soldiers don’t fall in love. He feels the slap across his face when his father had found him kissing another boy at school. He hears the slurs hurled at him. He feels the past beatings. His heart is breaking all over again. “Cas.” 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, propping himself up on one elbow as Dean sits up, dragging his hands through his hair. 

What has he done? Cas’ kisses sear his skin, his mouth burning. His insides twist and his sweat feels cold. He kissed him. He came in his mouth and moaned his name as he made love to him. 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas asks again, reaching out and touching Dean’s arm. Dean flinches, pulling his arm away. 

“Everything is wrong!” Dean yells. He can’t find his clothes in the mess. Their clothes are mixed up together and strewn about. His breath is starting to come quicker, his splintering heart slamming. Hot tears sting his eyes but he refuses to let them fall. 

“What?” Cas sits up behind him. Dean can’t bear to look. 

“Cas,” Dean says weakly, burying his face in his hands. He finally starts to cry as his brain starts to play the sounds of his father yelling. Cas wraps his arms around Dean and for a moment, Dean leans into him, sobbing into his chest. 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas reassures him. 

“No, it’s not!” Dean shoves Cas away again, wiping furiously at his tears as he gets up and grabs a new pair of boxers from his dresser. He pulls them on, but he can still feel every beating his father gave him, invisible scars as they are. “I’m not allowed to love!”

“You think I am?” Cas asks.

“Then why are you? Why am I? I know I’m not allowed to have this. I’m not allowed any of this. Especially with you!” Dean grabs a fresh pair of jeans and pulls them on. 

“I don’t think we get a choice in the matter,” Cas says softly. Dean turns around to face him. His poor angel. As beautiful as he always is, his eyes are full of questions and rejections. His shoulders are slumped and he’s barely covered by Dean’s blankets. “Why not me?”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! You’re my best friend! You’re a man —”

“I’m an angel,” Cas corrects him. 

“Is that supposed to make this better?” Dean snaps. He sounds like his father. “You’re a monster in a man’s body. Neither of those things are close to what I’m allowed to love or want.” Dean’s nose burns and he turns around again as more tears spill over. It shouldn’t matter who or what he loves. He loves Cas, an angel. He loves him with every fiber of his being. 

“What are you saying?” 

“I can’t love anyone,” Dean says, repeating the words that were drilled into him so young. “I’m not worth loving.”

“Yes you are,” Cas argues.

“Just go away!” Dean yells, shrugging Cas off again. He grabs a t-shirt and leaves his room, slamming the door behind him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cas can remember the first time a human cried. The angels watched the display of emotion with distant thoughts. Some were in awe, others bored. Cas had been intrigued. 

He feels a sharp sting in his nose and his vision blurs. When he blinks, he feels tears roll down his cheeks. They don’t stop and he doesn’t want them to. His shoulders shake, his eyebrows scrunching together as he begins to fully sob. 

Some of the tears roll down his chin and drip down onto his naked body, others drip from the tip of his nose onto the blanket. A few wet his dry lips. He can taste the salt in his mouth, but he doesn’t bother wiping them away. 

When it’s slowed, Cas gets up and finds his clothes among the wreckage. He pulls each item on until he picks up the tie. It’s no longer knotted, just a limp line of cloth. He’s never tied a tie. He crumples it in his fist and catches his reflection in the mirror. 

His dark hair is wild, pointing in every direction from Dean’s gentle tugs and embraces. He looks sad and lost. He’s never seen his face with glistening cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Cas touches his fingertips gently to his cheek and watches his reflection do the same. He wipes the wet fingers on his coat and looks at the door that Dean had slammed. 

He can’t make himself walk through that same door. He’s not even sure what just happened. He’d made love to the only being he’s ever felt romantic love for. He held him in his arms and kissed him tenderly. He’d messed up, he just didn’t know how. 

The look on Dean’s face was enough. He had been euphoric and it all came crashing down. His eyes had darkened, seeing something Cas couldn’t. His shoulders had tensed, his jaw tightened, his eyebrows knitted together. He had watched a beauty of a moment get stolen away in the fraction of a second. 

Cas scans the room. Dean’s clothes are still scattered about, his dresser drawers open. The tv is still silently on the title screen, asking if anyone wants to watch the next episode. The blankets from the bed are half on the floor, the sheets rumpled and freshly stained. There’s barely evidence of whispered love or harsh rejections. 

Cas uncurls his fingers, letting the tie drop onto the floor as he does what he’s told and leaves.    
  


* * *

Dean paces in the hallway. His face feels hot and he can’t feel himself crying anymore. He clenches his hands into fists so hard that when he finally lets them go, there are half-moon crescents left on his palms. He rakes his hands through his hair again and forces himself to breathe. 

His father isn’t alive. Even if he was, he isn’t in Dean’s life. Sam is. Cas is. Neither of them would do to him what his dad did. He won’t be hit or used as bait. He won’t become a drunk man’s punching bag for being a fag. He’s loved. He just got confirmation from the one he’s in love with that he, Dean Winchester, is loved. 

Dean starts walking, but there’s no actual direction he’s going. He just can’t stand in this hallway anymore. He’s sure he looks like a mess. He runs a hand down his face as he walks to wipe the tears away. He feels his heart pulling, shattered as it is. The farther he walks, the more broken he feels. He wants to run back to his room, throw open the door, and apologize. He wants to melt into Cas’ arms and tell him that he loves him too. 

Dean turns around and he does run. He sprints through the empty hallway back to his door. He stops, his hand on the doorknob and his forehead against the wood. Dean takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. 

His heart stops. Cas isn’t there. His clothes are gone. The room is more of a mess than Dean has ever seen it. The only piece of him that’s left is a wrinkled blue tie. 

Dean backs into the wall and falls to the floor, unsure if he’s actually having a heart attack or if he just needs to take another breath. He finds it’s the latter when he takes a short breath in. His phone. Where is his phone? Dean forces himself back up and goes to the nightstand to throw everything out of his drawer as he searches. 

Pictures and magazines are flung to the floor and bed. He turns to his dresser and starts clearing the junk from on top by tossing each thing that is not his phone over his shoulder. He spots his pants on the floor and grabs them, plunging his hand into the pockets. He tosses the silver lighter and grabs his phone. 

He calls Cas’ number, his eyes closing as he listens to the ringing. It clicks over to voicemail and Dean hangs up and dials again. 

“Cas, please come back. I need to explain. I messed up. I fucked it all up, Cas. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean grips his phone too hard.

He loses track of how many calls he makes and how many messages he leaves. He doesn’t notice when he curls up on the blanket that’s on the floor or when he falls asleep to the tone of his phone dying, beeping to tell him that it doesn’t have enough battery to make another phone call.    
  


* * *   
  


Sam looks at his phone. His alarm is supposed to go off in five minutes. But Crowley’s caller ID is lit up on his phone. He sighs and drags a hand over his face before answering. 

“This better be important,” Sam warns. 

“I think you’ll be interested, Moose,” Crowley says too cheerfully for a phone call this early in the morning. Sam waits, but it appears he’s going to have to answer before Crowley gives him any kind of information. 

“You’ve got thirty seconds before I hang up.”

“Not an early bird, are we?” 

“Twenty-five.” 

“Fine. Fine. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Crowley tuts. “I was wondering if Squirrel was missing a pet?”

“Why aren’t you calling Dean?” Sam presses his face back into his pillow. 

“His phone is out of battery. I’m guessing it’s just the phone that’s dead, yes?” Sam can hear the smile in his voice and rolls his closed eyes. 

“Missing pet?” Sam asks, his voice slightly muffled.

“Well, see, I have a drunken angel here. I was wondering if Squirrel had lost his.” 

Sam sits up straight and blinks a few times. “You have a what now?”

“You heard me.” 

“I’ll call you back,” Sam says, hanging up his phone and half-walking half-running to Dean’s room.    
  


* * *   
  


Dean wakes up to Sam nudging him. He looks around and takes in the fact that he’s on the floor and his phone is in his hand. He sits up, trying to retain at least an ounce of dignity. 

“What the hell happened in here?” Sam asks. 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, trying to ignore the state of his room. A tornado could have blown through with how messy it is. 

“Do you know where Cas is?” The subject change Dean was hoping for but not the subject he wanted to discuss. He takes a deep breath, hoping Sam won’t notice as the exhale wavers. 

“No, why?” 

“I’m guessing from the phone call I just got from Crowley that Cas isn’t here.”

“Cas is with Crowley?” Dean feels like throwing up and he’s not entirely sure why. He wants to be able to teleport down to Hell right now and storm into that stupid throne room to rescue Cas like a damsel in distress, but he fucked up his chance of ever being his knight in shining armor. 

“Apparently, Cas is also drunk,” Sam says. Dean makes a face but he doesn’t say anything. Cas certainly learned his coping skills from someone. “What happened, Dean?”

“How should I know?” Dean asks, his shoulders slumping. He doesn’t know what happened. He doesn’t know why when Cas said he loved him, his brain revolted. 

“Uh, Dean?” Sam gestures to the chaos that they’re standing in. 

“I fucked up,” Dean sighs. He sits down on his bed that is usually made up so well that a quarter could bounce off of the tightly tucked blankets. He can feel the tie in his pocket. He doesn’t remember putting it there, but he must have when he was tearing his room apart. 

Sam picks up a picture that he almost steps on and looks at it, smoothing out the edges before putting it on Dean’s side table. He leans against the dresser gingerly and crosses his arms, waiting for Dean to continue. 

“First off, I don’t want to hear a single word about this,” Dean warns. Sam furrows his brow and nods, agreeing. “Second, I have to fix this by myself.”

“I might be able to help, Dean.”

“No. This one is on me.” Dean looks down at his hands in his lap. His hands that had held Cas’ and had felt the softness of his hair. His hands that had been kissed tenderly just before the words had been spoken. 

“Cas left because I told him to go.” Dean balls his hands into fists again and crosses his arms to hide them and hug himself at the same time. 

“Dean, you didn’t.” Sam looks pained, but he still doesn’t know the half of it. Dean heaves a sigh and it breaks on the exhale. 

“‘I’ll fix this. I have to.” Dean gets up to leave the room, abandoning his dead phone in the mess on the floor. 

“Can you tell me why you told him to go?” Sam asks, following Dean out. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Dean snaps, ready to jump to Cas’ defense. He swallows down his anger and tightens his jaw. “He… He told me he loves me.”

Sam stops walking and grabs Dean’s arm to keep him from going anywhere. “What? Just out of the blue? Cas told you he  _ loves _ you and you sent him away? Also, back up, he  _ loves _ you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Dean wants to hide. He feels his cheeks heating up.”And no, not out of the blue. We…” Dean’s really blushing now and he takes his arm from Sam before starting down the hall again at a quicker pace. 

“You two? Really?” Sam calls after him. 

“What’s got you stuck, Sam? The part where I’m in love? Your stupid brother who’s only good enough for one-time hookups is in love? Or that someone fell for him too? That someone as great as Cas can feel anything for me at all?” 

“Whoa. Dean. I didn’t—”

“No, you didn’t.” Dean slams the door of the garage behind him and gets into his beloved car. 


	3. Chapter 3

Cas presses his face against the cold stone. Crowley had left him alone in some room in Hell to sober up because having a drunk angel loose in Hell would be bad for business. Sober but still far from ready to face anyone, Cas presses a button on his phone so that it’ll light up and show the notifications again. 

Dean has called 97 times and his voicemail box is full. How a digital, metaphorical box can be full, Cas will never understand. He presses the button again and the screen goes dark. 

“Feeling better?” Crowley asks, leaning against the doorframe. Cas sits up, pocketing his phone. “So. What did your squirrel do now?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Cas says, standing. He’s ready to defend Dean against the world, as always. 

“Naturally.” 

When Crowley leaves again, Cas pulls out his phone and uses the speed-dial that Dean had set for himself. It doesn’t even ring. Straight to voicemail. Cas hangs up. Dean clearly doesn’t want to talk to him. 

Cas doesn’t want to sit still. He doesn’t want to be in Hell. He doesn’t want to be in the bunker. There’s no way he can go back there. Not right now. He can’t go to Heaven. Part of him wants to go back to Purgatory where Dean was fighting for him. Dean battling every monster to make it back to Cas. That’s where Cas wants to be. 

He closes his eyes, unfurling his wings as he decides where to run away to.    
  


* * *   
  


Dean stares up at the ceiling over his motel room bed. There’s nothing special about it. Dean rolls over and buries his face into the pillow. It’s been days. Almost a full week has passed since he had his shot with Cas and blew it. Part of him wishes he’d brought his phone and charged it at the first motel he’d stopped at, but he’d embarrassed himself enough with nearly a hundred phone calls. 

Over the past week, Dean looked up summoning spells, gathered most of the ingredients, and decided against it. He didn’t want to see Cas against his will. He wouldn’t stoop that low. He did the same with a tracking spell. He had everything set. All he had to do was drop a match into the bowl and he stopped himself. 

After failing at everything else, Dean had come up with a plan, but he again wasn’t sure if he could go through with it. Maybe he had lost Cas forever. 

Dean pushes himself off of the bed and leaves the room. The sun is only just setting, giving the sky a dreamy, hopeful glow as he starts his car and puts his car is drive. His mind is racing, repeating toxic lines from his father alongside words of love from his angel. He can’t quiet them until he pulls up to an abandoned barn. 

His mind quiets as he walks into the barn that means more to him than anyone will ever know. The years have faded the old sigils. The dirt-covered floor has weeds popping up here and there. The back wall is empty except for the memory of angel wings flashing across them in shadow. The lights that hang are still broken, their light spent and never replaced after seeing Cas for the first time. Back when Cas was Castiel, Angel of the Lord, fierce monster sent from Heaven to rescue Dean from Hell. 

Dean runs his fingers over the old wardings. “I pray to thee, Castiel,” Dean starts, but what is there to say? Dean closes his mouth and flattens his palm against the wall. 

“I fucked up,” Dean says out loud. “A lot. I was never going to fall in love. Not after all of my lectures and…” He trails off and rubs the back of his neck as he pushes the nightmares of his father’s  _ lessons _ away. “I fell in love.” 

Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out the blue tie. It hangs limply in his hand as he runs his thumb over the fabric. 

“You and your stupid tie that’s always on backwards. You and that face with those eyes. You and your ‘hello, Dean’,” Dean says, imitating Cas’ deep voice. “I don’t know why I freaked out. Fuck. Yes, I do, but it’s not a good reason. I was fine. I was happy and you were beautiful and practically glowing. I’ve fucked. I’ve had sex. I’ve never done what we did. That was different. And then you said those magic words that lit up my world. I wanted to say them back. I still do. It’s not fair that a few broken bones and faded scars have any say in how I react now. It’s not fair to me. It’s definitely not fair to you that dear old dad still has a fucking say when he’s got nothing to do with us.

“Us. That’s what I want. Us. You and me, Cas. I didn’t say it then, but I want to scream it now if it means you’ll come back to me. I want to tell it to you every day and see your eyes shine like they did that night. I want to kiss it into your skin and whisper it when I fall asleep. I want you here with me. I want another chance.”

Dean pauses, realizing he’s been talking to himself in an empty barn and swallows. “I love you, Cas. I love you so fucking much and it’s tearing me apart.”

“Do you mean it?” Cas asks and Dean whips around. Standing in the doorway of the barn is his angel. The lights don’t explode. The wind doesn’t roar. Dean’s heart takes care of the theatrics, making leaps and bounds in his chest. 

“Which part? It doesn’t matter. I meant every word,” Dean says so quickly it comes out all as one word on a single breath. “Cas.”

“You didn’t say it because your dad…” A flash of anger crosses Cas’ face and Dean is reminded just how powerful a being his sweetheart is. His face softens again as he steps toward Dean. “Why are we here?” he asks, nodding to the wall of the barn without taking his eyes from Dean. 

“You know why,” Dean says, reaching out and taking Cas’ hands to pull him closer. He drapes the tie around Cas’ neck and starts to tie it slowly. 

“My stupid tie,” Cas repeats Dean’s words, glancing down briefly. 

“Your face and those eyes,” Dean says gently, staring into the deep blue eyes that have become his favorite color. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly as he runs a hand down the side of Dean’s face. 

“I love you, Cas.” 

Their mouths collide and it’s sweet and urgent and full. Dean’s arms wrap around Cas forever pulling him closer as Cas does the same.

Cas pushes Dean against the wall, pinning him there with his body as he devours Dean. Their lips crashing together while their hands explore the other, it’s contentment, euphoric joy, unrestrained desire, and promises of a future together rolled up together and protected by the shadow of wings.   
  


* * *   
  


“Dean,” Cas whispers. Dean blinks his eyes open and looks up into the most beautiful face he has ever seen. Dean relaxes and smiles, reaching up to cup Cas’ jaw and bring their faces together for a kiss. 

“Morning, Sunshine.”

“Good morning, Dean.”

The barn still surrounds them, but the soft glow of dawn fills the entrance. They have to leave. Dean realizes that Cas’ coat is draped over him like a blanket and he buries his face in the fabric, inhaling Cas’ smell before handing it back and standing up. He brushes the dirt off himself and watches Cas pull the coat on. 

“So, what are we now?” Dean asks, holding his hand out. 

Cas takes it, his hand warm in Dean’s. “Free?” They walk toward the Impala, arms swinging between them. Dean raises Cas’ hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Lovers, it would seem.”   
  


* * *   
  


The door to the bunker opens and Sam jumps up. He runs into the War Room and looks up as Dean walks in. The last time he saw his brother, he was a wreck. He looked as if he’d been crying, his face drawn, his eyes tortured. Now, he smiles, his eyes bright as he walks inside. 

“Dean!” 

Cas walks in behind him. Their hands are linked and Cas looks like he has to tear his eyes from Dean to look down and see Sam. 

“Cas!”

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean says with a half-smile. “I know I disappeared there for a minute.”

“I’m sorry too,” Sam says. He shouldn’t have scoffed when Dean had told him what had happened. Seeing them together now, nothing seems more obvious. Dean lets go of Cas’ hand at the bottom of the stairs and wraps his arms around Sam. “I’m really happy for you,” Sam says as he hugs his brother. 

Dean gives him a pat on the back before ending the hug and walking to his room. 

“When did you two make up?” Sam asks as he hugs Cas. 

“Last night,” Cas says. “This morning we decided we are lovers.” 

Sam chokes as Cas walks down the hall after Dean. 


End file.
